Changmin can trace the years on Yunho's face, the child-like curves that have faded into sharpness, the smooth, unbroken lines that trace out his bone structure, interrupted by fear and worry and hurt. He could fit his mouth to the furrow in his brow, slick a wet thumb over the creases at the corner of his eyes.
"I worry about you," Yunho says, sitting across the kitchen table in the dim stove light. Oh, Changmin thinks, shakily, there. The crinkle of Yunho's features, for me, for me, for me
i think you just claimed your spot as my favorite dbsk fic writer(: ♥ thank you for writing this, i think i kinda needed it.
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"I worry about you," Yunho says, sitting across the kitchen table in the dim stove light. Oh, Changmin thinks, shakily, there. The crinkle of Yunho's features, for me, for me, for me
i think you just claimed your spot as my favorite dbsk fic writer(: ♥
thank you for writing this, i think i kinda needed it.
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